


Starry Eyed

by bisexuallaurel



Series: Jimon Week [3]
Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Fluff, M/M, Tutoring, mundane AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-19
Updated: 2017-02-19
Packaged: 2018-09-25 16:20:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9828953
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bisexuallaurel/pseuds/bisexuallaurel
Summary: It’s hard being a teenager in high school. It’s even harder when you’re just starting to figure out sexuality and desire and how cute boys are, when suddenly a boy starts paying attention to you. And not just any boy, either.Or, the high school AU where Jace asks Simon to tutor him.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Day 7 of Jimon Week at tumblr, with the prompt "free choice".  
> Gifset for the fic on my tumblr:  
> http://bi-magnus.tumblr.com/post/157456594639/jimon-week-day-7-free-choice-word-count

 

It’s incredible how fast things can change. Just a few months ago, Simon was a lovestruck 17-year-old pining after the hot jock four lockers down who never noticed him, spoke to him or even recognized his existence. Now he’s a lovestruck 18-year-old sitting with said hot jock at a cramped table in the school library, with books and papers spread out before them, their elbows pressed together.

Jace points to one of the graphs Simon has been drawing. “Is that supposed to make sense to me?”

Simon huffs, still bent over the graph; his pencil slowly dragging across the paper and leaving a straight line of graphite trailing behind it.

Jace sighs and leans back in his chair. He locks his hands behind his neck and stretches.

Simon glances back at him. His shirt has ridden up slightly, exposing an inch of skin. He swallows and turns back to his graph.

When it’s finished, he sits back up and holds up the paper in front of him, inspecting it. Satisfied, he turns to Jace. “Okay, this is what it’s supposed to look like.”

Jace peers at the paper. Simon can see his eyes scanning the paper, trying to understand it, apparently with little success.

He frowns and leans back further in his chair. “I don’t get it.”

“Look, it’s not––”

“Not that difficult?” Jace says through gritted teeth. “I know. People keep telling me that, yet here I am. It’s difficult for me, okay?”

Simon waits for him to stop talking and then says in a gentle voice, “No, what I was going to say was that it’s not the end of the world if you don’t get the hang of this. You’ve got the core stuff down. So what if you don’t get an A? They’re overrated anyway.”

Jace regards him quietly. His shoulders are tense, as if he’s both mentally and physically coiled back into himself. Slowly the tension melts away.

“Alright,” he says. He still sounds skeptical. “Then fuck this stuff, because it’s giving me a headache.”

“Sure, we can get back to it later or–” He stops himself at the dead look in Jace’s eyes. He laughs quietly. “Or we’ll just move on. So, um. Did you read the stuff I gave you last week?”

Jace nods. “Yeah, but I didn’t get any of it.”

“That’s okay. It takes a while to get used to the concepts and all.”

Jace still looks a little defensive, like he often does when they’re studying. It’s clear he doesn’t think he’s capable of doing the work, so instead of trying he simply shuts down and hides behind his walls.

“How about a break?” Simon suggests. “Sometimes it helps to get away from it for a while and come back to it.”

Jace shrugs. “Yeah, sure. What’d you have in mind?”

Simon thinks for a moment. “What about coffee? My treat.”

A smile tugs on Jace’s lips. He pushes out of his chair and reaches for his letterman jacket. “You’re already doing me a favour, man. The coffee’s on me.”

 

\-------------

They decide to really treat themselves and opt for Starbucks a few blocks away instead of getting coffee from the library café.

“Order for me, yeah? I gotta pee,” Jace says and pats Simon on the back before disappearing off towards the bathrooms.

Simon doesn’t think much of it. He unconsciously taps his foot as he waits for the line to move. Suddenly someone barrels into him from the side; a rough elbow landing right beneath his ribs.

He grunts in pain and immediately tries to see who did the damage.

It’s a guy from his school. A jock, to be specific. To be even more specific, it’s one of the guys who made his middle school experience a living hell.

The guy doesn’t even apologize. Instead he just laughs; a loud, obnoxiously harsh sound, and walks back to his buddies, who were supposedly the ones who pushed him into Simon.

As he turns away from them in hopes of being left alone, he can hear them sniggering over a handful of very homophobic so-called jokes.

His cheeks burn with humiliation. If he’d been on his own, he would have just left. But Jace is in the bathroom and he can’t just leave without letting him know.

Biting his lip, he stays in line, orders, and finally picks up their drinks. It’s another five minutes when Jace finally comes back.

The homophobic guys are at the counter now, waiting for their orders.

“You okay?” Jace asks as Simon quietly hands him his coffee.

“Yeah,” he says, but his tone immediately betrays him.

“No seriously, what’s up?” Jace presses. He looks genuinely concerned, which might be why Simon breaks his self-imposed rule of never letting his crush see his pain.

“Those, uh, those guys were being assholes,” he mumbles. He takes a sip to keep himself from saying anything else.

Jace’s eyes narrow. “What’d they do?”

“Oh, uh, one of them kind of ran into me. Well, I think the others pushed him. And uh. Well, they were kinda homophobic, I guess.” He glances over at the guys, one of whom are grinning cruelly at him.

Jace follows Simon’s line of sight and grinds his teeth together.

“Let’s go,” he grunts, squaring his shoulders.

Simon shrugs and follows him as he makes for the exit, assuming that they’re going back to the library.

But before he can react, Jace has made a beeline towards the group of guys, and unceremoniously poured out half of his drink on them.

They scream as the fairly hot coffee drips down their stomachs and onto their crotches.

“Lightwood, what the fuck?” one of the guys shouts.

“Must’ve slipped,” Jace says in a calm voice. Maintaining eye contact with them, he takes a sip of the remaining coffee and walks back to Simon.

Simon’s heart is hammering in his chest as Jace drags him out by the arm. Once on the curb, he gasps, “Why did you do that?”

Jace looks surprised. “What? They disrespected you.”

He doesn’t say anything else, as if that explains everything. It doesn’t.

“I– you didn’t have to– what if they kick you off the team?”

Jace shrugs. “They’ve had it coming for a while. Besides, I’m the best player they’ve got. Before I joined they hadn’t won a game in years. They’re not gonna kick me out.”

Simon is still staring at him, while Jace calmly meets his gaze. Eyeing him up and down, Jace adds, “But seriously, are you okay? Did you get hurt?”

Simon shakes his head. “No, no, I’m fine. But–”

“Good,” Jace interrupts, seeming pleased. “That’s all that matters.” He gulps down the rest of his coffee and shucks the cup in a nearby trash can. “So, back to the library then?”

It’s obvious Jace doesn’t want to talk about what just happened, so Simon does his best to drop it. For now.

Instead he brings up another worry of his, that’s been gnawing on his mind ever since Jace asked him to tutor him all those months ago. A fear that only grew with the Starbucks incident.

“I don’t know, man,” he says, avoiding eye contact and instead staring down at his feet. “Maybe you should find another tutor. Someone cooler.”

“No one’s as smart as you, though,” Jace says. His voice is almost… soft, gentle. It’s nothing like the icy cold Jace who pours hot coffee on people without blinking.

Suddenly, he smiles. It’s a new kind of smile; nothing like Simon has ever seen before. It’s comforting, and bright, and, dare he say it… fond.

“Honestly, don’t worry about it.” He loops an arm around Simon’s shoulder and tugs him closer. He’s still smiling, and Simon can feel his knees wobbling underneath him.

He’s very attracted to the rough, take-no-bullshit version of Jace; bloody knuckles, leather jackets and all. But there’s something special about this Jace, too – the softer one, who actually smiles, and whose touch is light as a feather in a way Simon didn’t think him capable of.

\-----------------

Simon throws his head back as laughter bubbles out him. Tears are forming in his eyes and his stomach is starting to ache.

“That’s so fucking stupid,” he gasps, trying to clutch his stomach and keep himself from falling off the chair at the same time.

On the other side of the small table, Jace grins at him. His leather jacket is hanging off the back of the chair and he’s wearing a t-shirt at _least_ one size too small, which means his biceps are bulging every time he moves. Simon has spent the past hour completely mesmerized by this fact, but now for the first time since they sat down this morning, he’s slightly distracted.

“I tried to tell her that, but she wouldn’t listen,” Jace continues, and it only sparks another wave of hysterics in Simon.

When it finally dies down, he’s face down on the table and Jace is rubbing circles over his shoulder.

When Simon lifts his head up to say something, he catches Jace’s eyes on him. He’s smiling slightly, softly, like the way you might smile at a loved one bringing you soup when you’re sick.

Simon immediately forgets what he wanted to say. Jace’s fingertips are hovering over his shoulder. Suddenly he can’t remember how to breathe.

But then Jace pulls back and the bubble bursts with a violent _pang_.

He shudders slightly. Clearing his throat, he says, “We should get back to studying.”

Jace nods, and so they open up their books again, and dive back in.

It works for 30 minutes. But then Jace is asking him to teach him drawing and Simon can’t help but laugh because that is _not_ what they’re supposed to be doing.

“C’mon, just for a minute,” Jace insists. He stands up and comes over to Simon’s side of the table. He sits down in the seat next to him.

Simon gives in. Of course he does. Jace is so close now and he smells faintly of cigarettes and an indefineable sweetness that Simon has come to associate with him.

He picks up a pencil and a fresh sheet of paper. Curving his back slightly, he leans over it and starts drawing.

He goes for a simple sunflower. Nothing fancy, but still fairly fun to draw. When he’s done, he slides the paper to Jace and says, “Now you try.”

Jace takes the pencil from him. He traps his tongue between his teeth and starts carefully, carefully replicating the sunflower.

Simon watches him in silent awe. There’s something incredibly special about seeing someone who is usually so guarded and tense doing something so tender as drawing a sunflower.  
When he’s finally able to tear his eyes away from Jace’s stunning profile, he glances down at the paper.

He laughs softly. “No, not like that.” He puts his hand on top of Jace’s. He immediately flinches at the touch. Simon searches his eyes for consent to move forward. Jace gives him a hesitant smile.

Having been given the green light, Simon guides his hand as he draws the petals. A tension has fallen over them, making the air between them feel heavy and charged.

Supposedly to relieve the tension, Jace lightly traces a penis with balls next to the flower. “Like this?” he asks cheekily.

Simon laughs as he grabs an eraser. “No, not like that. Try this and-” He interrupts himself. He can feel himself and Jace pulling back their hands in perfect unison. “Oh, h-hi Clary.”

Clary Fray, Simon’s best friend, has come up to them. She looks between them with a confused frown. “Is, um, is this a bad time?”

“N-no!” Simon stutters out. He mentally scolds himself. There’s nothing like defusing a tense situation by _stuttering_.

She seems to pick up on the quiet begging in his mind for her to leave them alone.

“Never mind,” she says, and starts backing away. “Call me when you can, okay?”

He nods quickly, and watches her turn and all but running away.

Sadly, the damage has already been done. Jace has inched further away from him and is almost on the edge of his chair. He’s not looking at Simon.

Simon takes the paper back and slides it under the pile of paper in front of him. He clears his throat. “Well, um. Back to studying?”

Jace nods. They spend the next half hour reading in silence. The silence between them is almost painful, especially in contrast to how full of smiles and joy they were earlier.

When 5 PM rolls around, Simon decides that he’s had enough.

“Well, good job,” he says as way of bringing up the subject. He starts packing up his things.

Jace jumps slightly. “Oh, are you leaving?”

Simon pauses for a second in the middle of putting his papers in binders, and glances at the other boy. “Um, yeah. I gotta get home for dinner.”

Jace nods solemnly. “Right.” He starts packing, too.

They do so for a few minutes; the only sound being the shuffling of paper and closing of binders.

“See you next week then,” Simon says as they stand up. He’s clutching his binder to his chest, as if it can protect him from the awkwardness between them.

“About that,” Jace says. He rubs the back of his neck and glances away.

 _Oh no_ , Simon thinks. Doesn’t he want tutoring anymore? Is he sick of spending so much time with Simon? Has he gotten a girlfriend that can help him instead? Thoughts are swirling through his head and making him feel slightly out of touch.

“There’s a game tomorrow night,” Jace finally says, after a full minute of trying to find the right words.

“Oh,” is all Simon says.

“Yeah. Do you wanna come?”

“Do I– do I want to come to your game?” Simon repeats. He blinks. “Y-yeah, of course. I’d love to.”

One of those genuine smiles tug at Jace’s lips. He nods, and almost shyly meets Simon’s gaze. “It’s at 7.”

“I’ll be there.”

\----------------

Clary offers to come with him to the game, but he knows she already has plans with her girlfriend Izzy, so he tells her she doesn’t have to come.

As he’s walking towards the soccer pitch, completely alone in the sea of students, he finds himself regretting that selflessness.

Simon has only been to a handful of games in his life. He’s not really interested in sports, like, at all. He’d rather play video games or watch a movie. Anything, really, rather than watch sports.

The game is incredibly boring. It’s just a bunch of teenagers running around on a field and screaming. What’s so interesting about that?

Nothing, in his experience. But what is interesting is the fact that this gives him an ample opportunity at just shamelessly staring at Jace for a few hours.

Jace looks really, really good like this. His hair is slicked back with sweat and his legs look _incredible_ in shorts, which really shouldn’t be legal. Jace scores four times and every time without fail, he pumps his fists in the air. After the last two goals, he looks right at Simon after his standard fist bump, and grins.

The first time, Simon was sure he just imagined it. But then Jace scored again a few minutes later and the same thing happened.

He spends the rest of the game wondering what Jace meant by it.

When the final whistle is blown and the players have trooped off the pitch, Simon finally gets up to leave. His head is swimming with possibilities and questions. The past few weeks, Jace has been… different. He’s smiled more, laughed more, joked more. He’s seemed more at ease, although only for short bursts at a time. Simon can’t help but think it’s got something to do with him.

But that’s probably just wishful thinking. Jace would never go for anyone like him. He’s probably being nice to keep Simon around for tutoring purposes. Or maybe it’s all some elaborate prank to humiliate Simon when the time comes.

He tries to convince himself that that’s the case, because the alternative – that Jace could actually be interested in him – is too scary to even consider.

As he makes his way down the spectator stands, a voice calling his name grinds him to a halt. He looks around for the source of the sound, and his eyes land upon Jace.

He comes jogging towards him from the changing rooms. Simon can’t help but notice that he’s still in his sports gear. He stops just shy of running into Simon.

Simon shoves his hands in his jeans pockets. “Good game.”

Jace almost smiles. “Thanks.”

They’re both quiet for a while. Darkness is falling around them and most people have cleared the area by now. There’s only the distant hooting and laughing from the changing rooms that break the silence.

“I was heading home,” Simon says finally, just to say _something_.

“Oh, right,” Jace says. He looks disappointed.

Simon wishes that he would just say what he wanted to say. Get it over with.

“Yeah,” he says. Jace rubs the back of his neck and Simon finds himself unconsciously mimicking the movement.

“The guys are going out for pizza,” Jace says. He’s searching Simon’s eyes for some sliver of understanding, but there is none.

“Sounds fun.”

“Yeah,” Jace says. He glances down at the ground and then back up at Simon. “I’m not going though.”

Simon’s eyebrows raise slightly. “No?”

“Nah. I was thinking…” Jace licks his lips. “Maybe we could hang out?”

“Hang out?” Simon echoes blankly.

“Yeah. I could teach you to play.”

Simon laughs shortly. “Well, I’m not very gifted at sports.”

“I’m not gifted with maths but you’ve done a pretty good job with me despite that.”

Simon tries his very hardest to not let his teenage hormones take that sentence and run with it. To distract himself he smiles and says, “Okay, sure.”

A big smile spreads over Jace’s face and lights it up from within. He holds up his palms and says, “I just gotta shower first. Meet you on the pitch in 10?”

 _Well, so much for not thinking about sex_ , Simon thinks as Jace jogs back to the changing rooms and Simon is left with the mental image of Jace in the shower, all wet and soapy.

\------------------

They’re laying next to each other on the soccer pitch, the soft grass tickling their necks.

Simon’s eyes are closed. He’s just come down from another laugh attack, after Jace had tried to tackle him and thrown his arms around Simon’s waist to try and drag him down. They’d ended up in a pile with Jace on top, both of them laughing until their stomachs hurt. Then Jace had rolled off and they’d stayed like that, on their backs looking up at the stars, so close together that the backs of their hands touched.

Out of the corner of his eye he can see Jace looking at him, so he turns his head to meet hi gaze.

“Thirsty?” Jace asks. His eyebrows wiggle a little, and Simon can’t help but laugh.

“A little. Why?”

Jace sits up and Simon mimics him.

He pulls his backpack towards him and unzips it, pulling out a bottle that he hands to Simon who turns it over in his hands, regarding it.

“Where’d you get it?” he asks, still looking at the bottle.

“My brother Alec got it for me,” Jace shrugs. Seeing Simon’s nervous appearance, he adds, “It’s just beer. You don’t have to drink it if you don’t want to, though.”

“No, it’s fine,” Simon says. Jace hands him his key ring that has a bottle opener attached to it.

Simon pops the cap off and takes a tentative sip. He swallows with some difficulty, trying really hard to not spit it out.

Jace laughs softly and takes the bottle from him. “Not a beer fan, huh?”

Simon wipes his mouth on his sleeve. “Not really.”

“Hey, nothing to feel bad about,” Jace says. He smiles slightly.

Simon considers him for a moment and then says, “You’ve been really considerate lately.”

Jace looks like he’s been slapped. He flinches and diverts his eyes.

“It’s not a bad thing,” Simon hurries to say. “It’s really… sweet.”

Jace still doesn’t look at him. He takes another sip of beer.

Simon bites his lip. “Look, I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m not- I don’t know. I really like hanging out with you, even if it’s just looking at stupid charts and graphs.” He hesitates, not sure if he’s crossing a line. “Seeing you every Thursday… it’s been the highlight of my week.”

Jace finally looks at him. He looks strangely vulnerable.

The eye contact only lasts for a few seconds and then he looks away again. He abruptly stands up and hoists his backpack onto his shoulder. Pulling on his letterman jacket, he says, “I gotta go. I’ll see you later.”

Simon stumbles to his feet. “No, no, wait!”

Jace halts, but Simon can see the tension in his shoulders.

“I’m sorry if I made things weird,” Simon says, putting himself in Jace’s line of sight. “I never thought– I’m not expecting anything in return. I just thought you should know that I care about you.” He exhales. “That’s all. Do with that what you will. No strings attached.”

Jace looks at him. There’s a whirlwind of emotions in his eyes. His bottom lip quivers slightly.

Then he drops his backpack onto the ground with a dull _thud_. It’s a surreal mix of hyper speed and slow motion as Jace closes the distance between them, urging Simon backwards towards the fence separating the pitch from the rest of the campus. His hand hovers by Simon’s waist.

“Is this okay?” he breathes.

Simon nods quickly, his eyes transfixed on Jace’s mouth. “Y-yeah, it’s okay. Totally okay.”

Jace smiles ever so slightly. It’s not the bright, genuine smile Simon would’ve hoped for, but it’s a smile nonetheless.

It feels like a thousand years has passed and Jace still hasn’t kissed him. He’s mere inches away from him and his hot breath makes for a delicious contrast against the chill night air. His hand is balled into a fist in Simon’s shirt, tugging him close.

“Jace…” Simon whispers, his eyelids heavy as he glances up at the other boy.

This seems to awaken something in Jace. He recoils as if he’s been burned.

Stuttering and cursing under his breath, he searches the ground for his backpack and swings it onto his back.

“Fuck, I’m– I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I can’t–”

He looks wildly around them, as if searching for witnesses. He curses again, and bolts.

\------------------------------

It’s Thursday again and they’re back at the library. It’s been five days since they last saw each other at the game.

They haven’t talked about the almost kiss. It’s like an unspoken pact that they won’t discuss it. Simon really wishes he hadn’t mentally agreed to this hypothetical pact.

He cracks his knuckles and sighs. Pointing to the sheet of paper in front of them, he says, “Next you take this variable and–” He pauses, and looks up at Jace, who is staring at him. “Why are you staring at me?”

Jace blinks. His arms are crossed and he’s leaning forward, giving the impression that he’s listening, but his blank eyes tell another tale. “I’m sorry, what?”

Simon tugs at his sleeves and traps the fabric between his palm and fingertips, like he always does when he’s self-conscious. “You’re staring again.”

“Sorry,” Jace says, clearing his throat. “I didn’t mean to.”

Simon looks at him with hesitation in his eyes. “Okay… Er, so, where were we…” He consults his notes, when Jace’s hand grazes his, and Simon’s head snaps violently to look at him.

“I’m sorry about last week,” Jace says in a hushed whisper.

Simon’s heart start beating faster.

 _Jace is breaking the non-pact pact_ , he thinks.

He swallows roughly. “Oh, uh, that’s okay.”

“No, it’s not. I’m sorry. I… I was really insecure and I didn’t know what I wanted.”

Simon nods slightly. “Yeah. I figured as much.”

Jace glances at their hands. They rest on the table, almost touching but not quite. “You’re the highlight of my week too.”

Simon bites his lip. He’s trying really hard not to get ahead of himself like he always does. This thing with Jace is so fragile. He doesn’t want to mess it up.

Jace shuffles a little closer; the legs of his chair scraping against the floor. His pinky grazes against the other’s. Jace slowly turns his hand over, with his palm facing the ceiling. Silence stretches between them while the gears in Simon’s head turn furiously.

Holding his breath, Simon slides his hand into Jace’s. Jace smiles at him, and he releases the breath.

“I know I’ve got a thick skin,” Jace says quietly, looking at their joined hands. “And I know I can be an asshole. I’m trying to get better.” His thumb brushes against Simon’s knuckles. “When I’m with you, I _want_ to be better.”

Simon’s breath hitches in his throat. “That’s really sweet.”

Without realizing it, he’s leaned closer, and so has Jace. They’re so close now, Simon can feel Jace’s breath warming his skin.

“I really like you,” Simon whispers, his eyes searching Jace’s.

“I really like you too.”

It’s a whispered confession, immediately swallowed by Simon’s mouth.

He squeezes Jace’s hand as he kisses him, as if to remind himself that yes, this is real; this is really happening.

Jace sighs against his lips and runs his hand through the other boy’s hair. Simon pushes into his touch, angling his head slightly.

The kiss is light and soft, with the quiet promise of intimacy. As they lean back to catch their breath, Simon watches Jace’s eyes flutter open. His dazed eyes hold a whole new world.

Simon cups his cheek, his thumb tracing Jace’s cupid’s bow, and dipping down to trace his bottom lip.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Jace whispers, and his hoarse voice sends shivers down Simon’s spine. “Like, in public.”

“Is that okay?” Simon asks, a seed of worry growing inside him.

Jace smiles and it’s that soft, genuine one that Simon loves so much. “Of course it’s okay. I’d rather be happy and sappy with you, than–”

“That rhymes,” Simon cuts him off, a giddy smile on his face. “You just rhymed. That’s very uncool of you.”

Jace closes his eyes for a brief second. “I can’t believe you just said that and I’m still into you.”

Simon’s smile gets brighter by like 100%. “You’re into me. _You_ are into _me_. Am I dreaming? Is this real?”

Jace’s mild annoyance melts into fondness, as it so often does around Simon. He presses a soft kiss to Simon’s lips. “It’s real.”


End file.
